


To Be Good

by sixappleseeds



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, bottom geno, it's basically a pwp, non-hockey au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-12 02:57:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20557082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixappleseeds/pseuds/sixappleseeds
Summary: Sid was wearing a suit, and it was doing things to Zhenya





	To Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> Very much inspired by [this post](https://sevenfists.tumblr.com/post/185715897327/x). I started this for Bottom Geno Week and missed that deadline completely lol. It is very loosely a sequel to [Lonely Alone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19139542), but it should stand on its own pretty well

Sid was wearing a suit, and it was doing things to Zhenya. He’d never been one for gravity at formal functions, but the vision of Sid in bespoke navy, all crisp lines and confidence for the fundraiser gala, brought out the worst in him. He sidled up beside Sid and poked at his ribs, making Sid giggle-cringe in front of one of the several millionaire donors in attendance. Zhenya couldn’t even care.

The donor laughed affably enough, after a small pause, and Sid introduced Zhenya. Zhenya forgot the guy’s name even as they shook hands, smiles all around. Then Sid shot Zhenya a look. It was a look that said Zhenya should try to maintain some dignity, because the fundraiser was important. Zhenya tried to appear contrite.

“I have to be a little serious, G,” Sid murmured, as they threaded their way through the crowd. They greeted Drs Cullen and Letang, and passed by Jake and Olli chatting up a group of externs. It was a little surreal to see the staff of Three Rivers Animal Hospital wearing anything but scrubs; Zhenya almost didn’t recognize Andi in her gown. He gave her a thumbs up. 

Then Zhenya turned back to Sid, who frankly looked good enough to eat.

“Know you,” he said, leaning down to be heard over the rather enthusiastic jazz ensemble, and honestly to nose at Sid’s temple. “Serious so much. Should laugh more. All them?” He gestured at the crowd. “Rather give money to happy people. Should try it.” 

“Being serious is a perfectly effective tool for getting what you want,” Sid replied. He glanced up at Zhenya. “I can show you just how well it works.”

Zhenya smiled. “Be my guest,” he said. It was exactly what he wanted.

He spent the rest of the evening contriving to keep his mouth busy. It wasn’t difficult. Liveried waiters wandered through the crowds, carrying trays loaded with small delicacies, and Zhenya was determined to try every one. When he strayed from Sid’s side, it was only ever far enough to catch his eye as he sampled a stuffed mushroom, or licked balsamic reduction from his fingers. Sid smiled at him, or he laughed, or he did that thing where he half-shook his head without breaking eye contact, which was Zhenya’s favorite because it meant Sid was getting a little riled up. Zhenya wanted Sid riled up. It was only fair, after all. He’d put on his own nice clothes and come to this party for rich people at Sid’s request, and he deserved something nice in return. 

Concluding the evening with Sid’s dick down his throat would be very nice indeed.

.

It was after midnight when they finally left. Zhenya waved to Jake and Tanger, shook hands with Dr. Cullen, and waited as Sid thanked the remaining board members and the caterer too. It was when Sid started shaking hands with the jazz ensemble that Zhenya walked over and leaned a little onto Sid’s shoulder. There was a limit to his patience. Sid smiled up at him, and Zhenya had to resist kissing him in front of the bassist. 

“My place?” Sid murmured as they made their way back to the parking deck. The night was on the cool side, but after the stifling heat of the gala Zhenya didn’t bother buttoning his coat. 

“Have to leave in morning, then,” Zhenya said. He didn’t like to leave Dixi alone for more than one night. But he also did not feel up to driving back up to Sewickley tonight, not when he could be doing other things instead. 

“We can go after breakfast,” Sid agreed. “I have the next two days off.” 

“Vacation!” Zhenya slung an arm around Sid’s shoulder, and then backed him into the parking deck elevator. “All mine.” He nipped at Sid’s ear, then groped him through his trousers as the elevator doors closed. 

“Something you want, Zhenya?” Sid whispered, and Zhenya shivered. Sid only called him Zhenya when they were alone. Coming from him it was more than an intimate nickname, so qualitatively different from how his family and his friends used it that hearing it from Sid rocked him every time. It was as if Sid had figured out how to sound out the shape of Zhenya’s heart, two syllables made perfect by Sid’s voice and the love behind it.

“You know,” he muttered into Sid’s hair. He was a little more than buzzed now, felt itchy and needy and too big for his skin. “Know what I need.” 

Zhenya was grateful, not for the first time, that they’d gotten to the point where he could be vague like this and trust that they both knew what he was asking for. Sometimes Sid still turned it into a game, made Zhenya articulate every detail of what he wanted Sid to give him, but Zhenya didn’t think they were in that sort of mood tonight. 

They weren’t. Sid snaked an arm around Zhenya’s waist, pulled him close and kissed just under his jaw. “When we get home then, eh?”

“Please,” Zhenya whispered. 

The elevator chimed. They stepped back. Zhenya followed Sid to his car.

They were quiet on the way back to Sid’s place in Greenfield. Zhenya stared out the window, hands clenched in his lap, as Sid navigated the winding back roads toward the top of Lydia Street. The Pittsburgh skyline emerged as they rounded a turn, bright and dear in the distance, and then disappeared again as the road switched back. You could see the whole thing from Sid’s bedroom window, though. Zhenya closed his eyes. 

The silence between them was part of their ritual, a quiet space they gave to each other as a prelude to a scene. With each passing minute Zhenya wound tighter and tighter with anticipation, breathing as slowly as he could, but it didn’t really help. This, too, was part of it.

Finally, the garage door rumbled, loud and familiar. Inside, Sid left the lights on low as they shrugged off coats and stepped out of shoes. Zhenya followed Sid upstairs. 

In the bedroom, Sid pulled a mat to the middle of his floor. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he murmured.

Zhenya shook himself, watching Sid pad away down the hall. He was practically vibrating, too full of energy to sit quietly yet. He hopped in a few jumping jacks, shook out his arms, then his legs, and rolled his shoulders. Sid always gave him enough time. Zhenya took off his suit jacket, set it on the spare chair by the window. The rest of his clothing followed. He wasn’t sure what it was that Sid did, when he let Zhenya strip and settle like this, but he always gave Zhenya enough time. 

Finally he knelt on the mat, hands on his knees, and breathed out a sigh. Sure enough, after about a minute of steady breathing, he heard Sid’s knock on the door frame. 

Zhenya opened his eyes. 

Sid watched him. They’d been together long enough now that negotiation, at least for something like this, wasn’t necessary. Still, Sid always waited for Zhenya to speak. His trust felt like a gift, every time, and Zhenya never tired of the tiny bubble of wonder he felt, that they’d made this together. 

“Yes,” he sighed, happily. 

Sid stepped into the room. He was still in his suit, though he’d lost the tie. Zhenya watched his hands. Sid unzipped his fly, took out his dick. He was only half-hard. Zhenya spent a moment wondering what Sid had been doing just now, that he’d managed to keep himself somewhat soft — math problems, maybe? — before Sid strode forward, stopping a few paces away from where Zhenya knelt. 

“Suck it,” he said. 

Zhenya glanced at Sid’s face. His mouth was unbowed, trying for serious, but Sid couldn’t hide the smile in his eyes. Shaking his head to hide his own grin, Zhenya grabbed the mat and crawled. His own dick was heavy between his legs, rather further along than Sid’s, and he was caught between needing to move a little carefully and wanting to fall to his elbows and present for Sid. 

“I’ll fuck you later, if you’re good,” Sid said quietly. 

Zhenya sat up, scooting a little so he knelt on the mat. “What if I’m bad?” 

Sid set a hand on Zhenya’s head. “Maybe I won’t let you come.” 

One time Zhenya had held out for a week before begging Sid to let him come. Another time he’d lasted nearly a month, but Zhenya didn’t really count that because he’d been home in Russia for much of that time. He’d assumed that the worst part would be not masturbating. In reality the worst part was not having Sid around to tell him not to. Zhenya didn’t much care for being good all by himself. He’d managed, but it wasn’t any fun.

Sid waited, carding his fingers through Zhenya’s hair. His dick was all the way soft again, inches from Zhenya’s face. It didn’t really matter what Zhenya chose, honestly. Sid would take care of him.

“I’ll be good,” Zhenya decided. 

“Okay,” Sid said.

They both paused for one breath, two, and then —

“Suck me,” Sid repeated, tightening his hold on Zhenya’s hair and jerking him a little. “Look at this, I’m soft.” His tone was biting, almost snide, like it was Zhenya’s fault he’d lost his erection. Like it was Zhenya’s job to get it back.

So Zhenya would. 

When he’d told Sid, shyly, months ago, that he liked mouthing at Sid’s dick when it was soft, liked to feel it chub up against his lips and tongue, Sid had looked thoughtful, and kissed him gently. “Thanks for telling me,” he’d said. 

Then, almost a week later, as they sprawled on the sofa zoning out to bad TV, Sid had wriggled a little, and pulled his dick out of his sweats. “If you want.” His cheeks were pink. 

Zhenya wanted very much. 

Now, Zhenya leaned forward to press his nose against the base of Sid’s dick and let himself whimper as he heard Sid inhale. Sid could smell Zhenya’s arousal, probably would’ve been able to smell it the whole car ride home, and not for the first time Zhenya marveled at Sid’s control. He worked his way to the tip of Sid’s dick, leaving tender open-mouthed kisses that had them both breathing hard. Supported by Sid’s hands in his hair, Zhenya kept his own hands on his knees. He’d have welts tomorrow from his nails, but making Sid hard was a job for Zhenya’s mouth and his mouth alone. 

Zhenya’s whole world focused down to this: the sharpness of Sid’s fly against his chin, Sid’s fingers tight in his hair, and Sid’s dick, heavy and growing, on Zhenya’s tongue. He ignored his own dick as best he could, though he was sticky and aching. Sid would take care of him. Zhenya would be good.

After some minutes or hours or maybe years had passed, Sid tapped Zhenya’s temple once, twice. “Okay?” he murmured. Zhenya glanced up, mouth busy. Sid’s eyes were almost black, his nostrils flared, and he looked so fucking good in that suit. Zhenya hummed. 

“Fuck,” Sid gasped. He adjusted his hold on Zhenya’s head, and Zhenya sighed, long and deep. This was his favorite part.

“I wanted to take you tonight,” Sid muttered. He began to thrust into Zhenya’s mouth, slow and deliberate and just a bit too deep. “I was talking to the mayor’s wife —” Zhenya choked “—and all I could see was you licking your fucking fingers across the room.” Sid twisted his own fingers in Zhenya’s hair. “I wanted to drag you down a hallway and put you on your knees.” 

Zhenya moaned. 

He always lost himself a little, doing this. Or maybe it was that he let himself be lost, because Sid had him, and there was nothing for Zhenya to do except take what Sid gave him. And Sid had become very good at giving it to him. It wasn’t long before Zhenya’s face was soaked, with spit and precome and sweat. He could feel it drip down his jaw as Sid fucked his mouth with a kind of steady ruthlessness that brought tears to his eyes. The first time Zhenya cried like this, Sid had stopped immediately, totally shocked. Zhenya had snarled and growled and managed to force some assurances into words — into English, no less — but Sid had still been a little too careful around him for days afterward. 

Now he waited until Zhenya’s tears streamed down his cheeks, adding to the rest of the mess on his face, before tapping again on Zhenya’s temple and pulling back.

“On the bed,” Sid said quietly. 

Zhenya wiped his face with his hands, sniffed a few times, and crawled across the floor. 

“Don’t come yet,” Sid said from behind him, because Sid knew he was going to drag his dick against the sheets as he heaved himself into Sid’s bed. Zhenya had actually come like that once, but it had been accidental and sometimes he still felt bad about it. He was careful now to leverage himself up with no incidental contact, and flopped onto his back with a groan. 

Sid watched him. His dick jutted out from his pants, red and gleaming against the navy and white of his suit. His face was flushed, and Zhenya knew that flush extended all the way down Sid’s chest. He loved how Sid acted like he was calm and collected during sex, because they both knew he got just as worked up as Zhenya.

Zhenya wiggled on the bed until he was half off it, heels boosted on the edge of the frame, thighs spread. “Don’t take it off,” he said, waving a hand vaguely at Sid’s clothes. “Look so good, Sid, can’t believe...” When Sid didn’t move, Zhenya tried another tack. “Gotta get it cleaned anyway, might as well get dirty first?” 

Sid stared at him for a moment longer, fairly smoldering, before shaking his head. “Like I’m gonna be able to wear this again,” he grinned. He grabbed the bottle of lube from their bedside table. “Every time I see it in my closet I’ll think of you.” Stepping between Zhenya’s legs, Sid stretched right out on top of him. 

“Maybe point,” Zhenya muttered, and he felt Sid smile into his kiss. 

Sid kissed Zhenya like he had nothing better to do, lazy open-mouthed kisses that were too gentle and too teasing to get anything started — let alone finished. They could do this for hours, Zhenya knew, because they had before. On rainy mornings, or warm summer afternoons Zhenya could be made amenable to whiling away the time making out, but Sid was just being provoking tonight.

He arched under Sid, and then, when Sid only grinned again, lips against Zhenya’s, wrapped his legs around Sid’s waist. Their dicks lined up at last, a fact that made them both groan. 

“Impatient, much?” Sid reached for a heap of sheets above Zhenya’s head, guided Zhenya’s hands to it. “Hold on,” he whispered, right in Zhenya’s ear because he knew how it made Zhenya squirm. “Come when I tell you.” 

Zhenya sighed, less at the command and more to release _something_, even if it wasn’t what he needed. When he felt Sid’s fingers, slick and hot, rub over his hole he moaned, gripping the sheet in his fists. Sid had bought restraints, had sets of them in both their houses, but sometimes just holding onto a sheet was enough. Sid also bought really strong sheets. 

The press of Sid’s fingers, and then, after Sid had reduced Zhenya to begging, the long, slow stretch of his beautiful dick, brought fresh tears to Zhenya’s eyes. There was Sid inside him and above him, his voice murmuring praise and Zhenya’s own hands fisted above his head, because Sid had asked him to, and it was perfect and too much, this and every time.

“Sid, please!” Zhenya arched, gasping at the feel of Sid’s shirt against his belly and his dick.

“Come for me, Zhenya,” Sid panted. He fumbled for the bottle of lube, poured it right on Zhenya’s dick, shockingly cold. Then his hand was on Zhenya, stroking him just right, in time with his thrusts. “I got you, come on, you can do it.” 

Zhenya was right there, and didn’t tip over the edge so much as rocket off it, hips bucking as he moaned. Sid fucked him through it, grabbing at the back of Zhenya’s thighs and bending him nearly in two until he followed Zhenya over. 

.

Later, after they’d showered and Sid had draped his suit over the chair, smiling helplessly, they bundled themselves into bed and turned off the lamp. In the distance, the Pittsburgh skyline rose, a familiar scatter of white and gold lights against the night sky. Zhenya loved his home up in the hills, loved its space and solitude, but he’d come to love this, too. 

Behind him, Sid snuggled closer, pressed a kiss to the back of Zhenya’s neck.

“Pancake for breakfast?” Zhenya murmured.

Sid spread his hand over Zhenya’s belly, warm and sure. “Mine or yours?” Sid sounded most of the way asleep already.

Zhenya’s paper-thin blini or Sid’s mother’s recipe, so hearty he couldn’t manage more than four. Both were good. “Yours,” he said. “Maybe. We see.”

“Sounds good.” Another kiss. “Thanks for coming with me tonight.” 

Zhenya wiggled a little deeper into Sid’s arms. “Mmm,” he said. “Is my pleasure.”

A pause. “You dork,” Sid giggled. 

Zhenya grabbed Sid’s hand, kissed his knuckles. “You love,” he said.

Sid sighed, and Zhenya knew he was smiling. “I do,” he said. “I do love you.” 

Zhenya closed his eyes, warm and sated and the kind of bone-deep happy that made it feel like he was floating. “Love you too, Sid.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Tell me if you liked it? :D


End file.
